


What Lies Beneath Gentle Ocean Waves

by lunarella



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Development, Depressed Lance (Voltron), Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Getting Together, I fixed it though, I posted this to the wrong fandom lol, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Light Angst, M/M, for the most part I think, i went ahead and took lance's development into my own hands, in a sense but it is undoubtedly established in the end, probably mid twenties, they're older in here, very light, yw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 02:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15832323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarella/pseuds/lunarella
Summary: It’s so easy to forget that just because Lance looks fine most of the time, doesn’t mean that there isn’t more going on beneath the surface. After all, the darkest places on Earth lie just beneath gentle ocean waves.Keith notices it though; the unrest beneath it all.---Lance can't sleep because he's having a depressive episode. Keith helps him though it.





	What Lies Beneath Gentle Ocean Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with making prompt memes way longer than they need to be! (:  
> This, like my last work, was meant to be sweet and simple and only like 500 words, but I had sTRONG feelings about Lance's lack of character development this season so I took it upon myself to expand on it. YW.  
> Anyway s/o to alosblindsquirrel for requesting this one on [ tumblr](https://litaluna.tumblr.com/)  
> !  
> !The prompt was "You look really tired". 
> 
> Also it's 3AM but I wanted to finish editing this and posting it already, so there's probably a few errors. If any are too cringey lmk in the comments!
> 
> **Don't hate me for changing the publication date, I posted this under the wrong fandom originally and I'm salty about it. I didn't want to delete it and re-upload it from scratch for those who have already found and read it so I fixed it and changed the date. It was a false start I'm sorry. :'''''0

It's late when Keith finds Lance in one of the many rooms of the Atlas, sitting in a bay window. The room is dark and Lance’s form is drenched in starlight as he gazes off into the distant stars. Keith doesn’t know what time it is exactly; only that it’s some ungodly hour and they should both be sleeping.

“What are you doing up? It’s late,” Keith asks, voice hoarse because he had been sleeping up until a bit ago. Nightmare. Then, of course, it was hard to fall back asleep… _alone_ , anyway. He’s grown pathetically fond of sleeping with someone next to him. That someone being specifically and exclusively Lance. Most nights, he ends up crawling into Lance’s bed, or Lance to his. Secretly, Keith likes going to Lances room more, likes the way the sheets smell like him.

It’s a little unbelievable sometimes, when he thinks about their relationship now, compared to a few years back. Back when he was too emotionally closed off to bond with anyone and also bitter about Lance’s general detesting of him. Then, there was also the fact that Lance was still mentally coming to terms with being bi and unfortunately Keith was his internally rejected object of interest. They didn’t know what to do with or about each other. It didn’t help that Keith had been harboring a huge face crush on the other man, back when they were teens and Lance seemed to so immensely dislike him.

It’s crazy what bit of growth can do for one’s maturity… in combination with an intergalactic war and a few near death experiences. It all really pushes one to stop avoiding things, like massive crushes on a fellow teammate.

 Lance, seemingly unsurprised by Keith’s sudden appearance, doesn’t look away from the vast space beyond the window, simply shrugging.  

“Same goes for you,” he responds, avoidantly. Keith grunts and rolls his eyes, closing the distance between them.

“I went to go to your room, but you weren’t there,” Keith admits, unable to mask the mild disappointment in his voice. “Obviously, now I know why,” he adds, settling himself beside Lance, as the windowsill is just wide enough for both of them. He rests his head against the other man’s shoulder.

“Aw, did your lover’s intuition guide you here?” Lance teases, eyes leering down on Keith mockingly. Keith rolls his eyes and shoves at Lance’s chin.

“Shut up. This is always the first place you go when you can’t sleep,” Keith reasons, and Lance never has to know about how the first time Keith found him there, curled up by the large window, he had been led by some unknown feeling. He’d much sooner kick himself in the face than admit to Lance that it was something as cheesy lover’s intuition, though.

“You look really tired,” Keith observes, raising a hand to caress Lance's cheekbone, tracing the dark ring under his eye. Lance leans into the touch, exhaling heavily and closing his eyes.

“Speak for yourself,” he snorts and clasps Keith's hand in his own to hold it against his chest.

“I mean it, Lance,” Keith presses, squeezing Lance’s hand. “I know you haven’t been sleeping well. I mean, I sleep next to you most nights, I can tell-”

“Well, that just means you’ve been awake to realize, too,” Lance is quick to dodge the topic. Keith has to stop himself from outwardly groaning in frustration at Lance’s blatant avoidance.

 Lance has grown in many different ways over the past few years, but in some areas, Keith wishes he hadn’t. Particularly, he wishes Lance didn’t grow so damn humble. It’s to the point where he takes all of his own insecurities and concerns and buries them somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, somewhere dark and unreachable because he can’t bear the thought of burdening anyone with his struggles because he feels like they aren’t worth it. Like his feelings somehow mean less than everyone else’s. Keith hates it. Especially because he feels like if he had just been there for Lance, maybe it wouldn’t have gotten so bad. But the time he spent with the Marmora and his mom were of course when this all started happening, and by the time Keith came back, it was already in effect. All Keith could do was walk into the aftermath and try his best to maneuver it as carefully and cathartically as possible. He knows being away hurt Lance. More than he ever thought it would. But he’ll work every day for as long as it takes to make it up to him, to be there for him and make him smile and laugh for all the days that he wasn’t there.

 _“Lance,”_ Keith heaves a sigh, wishing Lance would stop dancing around the topic. He leans forward, into Lance’s space to better make eye contact, but Lance stubbornly angles himself away. Keith closes his eyes in exasperation. “Lance, please,” he beseeches, not really sure exactly what he’s asking for; just something. Lance groans.

“You know, I’m used to being the one having to pry answers out of _you_ ,” Lance mumbles, referring back to Keith’s days of being emotionally unavailable.

“Are you complaining?” Keith smiles. Lance rolls his head toward Keith to give him a deadpan, unamused side-eye. “Kidding, I’m kidding.” Keith grins wider.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Oh, god, you’re using big words.”

“Shut up.”

“Talk to me.”

Lance looks over to Keith, who looks back with determined compassion. If Keith is anything, it’s intolerably persistent. Lance knows this. So, after attempting to hold emotionally neutral eye contact, he eventually just sighs and shrugs.

“I don’t know, Keith. It’s just been one of those weeks, I guess,” Lance explains, heaving an exhausted sigh as he runs his free hand through his hair.

Keith hums in understanding. _One of those weeks,_ as in one of those weeks when his brain decides to work against him; decides to tell him all the worst things about himself and confirm that everyone’s playfully teasing comments are actually the truth. It’s easy to forget sometimes, that Lance isn’t as emotionally invincible as he lets on. It’s so easy to forget that just because Lance looks fine, doesn’t mean that there isn’t more going on beneath the surface. After all, the darkest places on Earth lie just beneath gentle ocean waves.Keith notices it though; the unrest beneath the waves.  Lance is the one whose always upbeat, the one who holds a smile for everyone when things look dull. He’s the chuckle in an otherwise serious environment, always brightening any dark situation with one of his dazzling, perfect, white smiles. He’s the comic relief. At first, it was an accident; he was just naturally a big goof, but over time he started to believe that’s all he was. It didn’t help that Lance seemed to think it made everyone’s life a little easier at the end of the day; for him to be the joke in the room. The others say they’re kidding when they make playful jabs at him. Keith _knows_ they’re kidding, but he also knows that sometimes, Lance’s brain decides they aren’t. It says that _he_ is the joke. Plain and simple. That he offers no value to the team.

Keith wishes he could crawl into Lance's brain sometimes to physically smooth out all those negative thoughts and replace them with all the brilliant things Keith knows are true about Lance; how he’s self-sacrificing to a fault, unconditionally loving, loyal, incredibly empathetic and emotionally perceptive and a million other words that couldn’t begin to truly express how amazing he is. All the things that make him so loveable.

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispers, pressing himself closer to Lance.

“Don’t be. S’not your fault,” Lance dismisses. Keith cringes, knowing that Lance is going beat himself up more if he knows Keith feels bad for him.

“I know. I _know_ it’s not, but,” Keith huffs, adjusting to sit up and turn to look at Lance, eyes peering up under thick, black lashes and into deep blue eyes. Lance raises his gaze to meet Keith’s and Keith has to stop himself from frowning when he sees the dark circles under Lance’s eyes directly. He does, however, take a minute to mentally berate himself for not noticing earlier, how bad this episode was getting. Then again, Lance has been getting frustratingly good at concealing his demons.

Unable to resist, Keith leans up to press a kiss just above one of Lance’s cheekbones and at the dark ring there, willing it to smooth under his lips. “I care about you, Lance,” he says when he pulls back, interlacing their fingers as he presses their foreheads together. A beat of silence follows as Lance drops his gaze from Keith’s, exhaling a defeated sigh as he rolls his head against Keith's shoulder.

“When did you get so good with words?” he mutters. Keith smiles. 

“Probably around the same time you got so mature,” he answers. “C’mere,” he instructs, pushing Lance to lean forward so that he can clumsily maneuver behind the taller man, positioning himself between the wall and Lance himself.

 _“Ow!_ You just kneed me in the rib!” Lance hisses as Keith fumbles to comfortably sit behind him. Keith chuckles.

“Sorry,” he apologizes halfheartedly, pulling the other man down to lie between his thighs, Lance’s back to his chest.

Keith settles his chin atop Lance’s head, his brown hair tickling Keith’s pale cheeks as Lance settles back against him, melting into Keith’s embrace. It’s silent after that, though it isn’t awkward; therapeutic if anything—to be able to relish in each other’s presence for no other reason than just being able to. There’s no drills to worry about, no alarms blaring over their heads and no Voltron. Not right at the moment, anyway. At the moment, they get to just be with each other. Keith wishes he could hold on to it forever.

“You don’t have to do this,” Lance reminds him. Had Keith still only been eighteen, he likely wouldn’t have been able to sense the guilt in his voice.

“I know,” Keith replies, quickly. “I _want_ to. I _want_ to be here for you, Lance,” he emphasizes, resting his cheek on the crown of Lance’s head whilst wrapping his arms around his waist to hold him closer.

The windowsill isn’t very comfortable, even with the cushions that line the bottom of it, but these are the sacrifices people make when they love someone, Keith supposes. He settles back and lets his eyes droop shut. It’s funny, he thinks, how even though his bed is much more comfortable than this windowsill, Keith kept tossing and turning anyway. But even as his shoulder blades dig uncomfortably into the wall behind him and he can already predict how his muscles are going to ache the following morning, his eyes are fighting to stay open. Keith _knows_ it has everything to do with the man in his arms. He could be in the most comfortable bed in the world, but he’s come to find lately that unless a specific humble boy from Cuban is there next to him, it won’t matter.

It’s these content final thoughts, nuzzling against Lance’s brown hair and breathing him in, that send him off to sleep.

#

They aren’t in the same position as last night when Keith wakes up to the ship’s automatic light system—something he had to fight with Pidge and Hunk to install in the hallways and common areas of the ship, to help enforce a day and night routine out in space. Keith doesn’t remember shifting, but regardless, he and Lance are both laying across the padded windowsill, facing each other. Keith also realizes that Lance’s jacket is draped over both of them, and Keith smiles sleepily at the tan man before him, his heartrate hastening in a feeling he’s been feeling more and more when it comes to Lance.

Careful not to wake Lance, Keith inches forward enough to gently press his lips to Lance’s cheek in a lingering kiss. It’s new territory for them to be like this—coupley. The wiser part of Keith says that it’s probably better to stay in shallow waters because they’re at war and can’t afford distractions, but then the part of him that knows the pain of abruptly and suddenly losing someone is terrified of doing that. He’s already almost lost Lance too many times and mourns the thought of never having acted on his feelings. Gods forbid, but if anything should ever happen, he wants Lance to know how he feels. Even though they haven’t spoken in depth about what they are, or where they stand, he wants Lance to know how much he cares. Not having an official title isn't important. It's just a label slapped over a relationship- it won't actually change the substance of what they have. He's fine without it and definitely doesn't care about being called Lance's boyfriend or Lance being called his boyfriend because that's dumb and immature. Or at least, that's what he convinces himself.

Keith draws back from Lance, taking Lance’s sleeping as an opportunity to freely observe the other man’s form. Leave it to Lance to somehow look graceful doing everything, even something as mundane as sleeping. He really is gorgeous; strong cheekbones, sharp jawline, narrow nose upturned just slightly in a way Keith finds intolerably adorable and skin smooth as dark caramel. Up so close, Keith can much clearer make out the sparse freckles on his face.

But, he also looks sad when he’s asleep, and that’s always what Keith notices the most. When he’s awake, he makes it a point to look okay, for everyone around him because he cares so immensely about them all and wants to make up for all his self-perceived, exaggerated shortcomings with emotional strength. But when he’s asleep, there’s no hiding the emotional strain that wracks his mind.

Keith raises his hand to gently caress his thumb along Lance’s cheekbone, smiling when Lance’s form sighs and leans into the touch.

“Morning,” Lance greets groggily as his hand raises to capture Keith’s and he presses a kiss to his palm. Warmth resonates deep in Keith’s core at the affectionate gesture, a light blush dusting high on his cheeks.

“You moved us,” Keith mentions. Lance breathes deeply before opening his eyes to blearily focus on Keith.

“I did. You started snoring,” Lance enlightens, matter-of-factly with a playful grin. Keith gawks and snorts, shoving at Lance’s shoulder, earning a hoarse chuckle from the other man.

“You’re starting to lose your game in the romance department, Lance,” Keith informs playfully.

“What do you mean?” he laughs. “I’ll have you know that I am an extremely observant lover who happens to know that _you_ ,” Lance shifts closer to Keith to tangle his hands in Keith’s dark hair and press a chaste kiss to his lips. Keith closes his eyes and leans into it, but it’s short lived as Lance is dragging away only a second later. “Only snore when you’re uncomfortable. So yes, I am very attuned with my romantic side. Otherwise I wouldn’t know that,” he says, pleased as he presses his forehead to Keith’s. Keith licks his lips, wishing he could taste the tingling sensation Lance’s kiss leaves behind. He pauses, considering Lance’s words.

It's probably unwise to attempt this conversation right now, but how often do they actually get to have moments like these? When will he have another opportunity? They're always negotiating, or fighting, or searching because being a paladin is a twenty-four hour job.

“Lovers, huh?” Keith finally says after a long moments hesitance, pointedly keeps his eyes angled down, away from Lance’s eyes.He regrets voicing it almost immediately when he feels Lance tense beside him. He flicks his eyes up to see Lance’s eyes settled on him, expression suddenly uncharacteristically grave and _worse_ , unreadable. Keith suddenly feels very remorseful of all the times he’s left Lance on edge, trying to read his emotions through near-stoic behavior, leaving him grasping for thread.

“Keith, I-” Keith feels his heart sink suddenly. The thought of Lance’s reply being anything other than what he wants to hear an absolutely terrifying concept.

“No, I—sorry I just,” Keith fumbles to dismiss his comment, but the words catch in his throat and he refuses to look up at Lance; doesn’t want to see what his face might look like. “Never mind,” he continues to stumble over his words, mouth forming but not saying anything else so he stops, swallowing thickly. Excruciating silence follows, and Keith hopes that whatever conversation is looming around the corner at least doesn’t change what they have because Keith loves this. He loves what they have.

“Keith, do you think we’re a couple?” Lance asks, so blunt and unabashed it sends Keith’s mind whirling because he is _stressing_ right now and Lance just so _blatantly_ asks?! Keith looks up, searching for the judgement in Lance’s expression but is instead met with genuine curiosity and _hope_. Keith must look exactly how he feels; terrified, because Lance is stumbling over his words to continue. “Because, I do too! Or—I hoped, anyway—that we were a couple. That you also wanted that. I just- I never wanted to say anything because you have so much going on, I mean we _all_ do. But, between you and your mom having reestablished the Blade of Marmora and you being the _Leader_ of Voltron, _my_ leader… it felt like too much. Like, maybe I should just leave it and be grateful for what I have because there isn’t any room for a relationship between fighting a war and us. But—” Keith’s eyes grow wider and fonder with every word that clumsily falls past Lance’s lips, each word sending a wave of relief through him. Before Lance can finish whatever montage of verbal vomit is to come, Keith leans forward and kisses him, effectively rendering the other man silent.

It’s a brief kiss, but Keith pours all his passion into it, effectively getting his point across, Keith hopes. When he pulls away, he’s met with Lance’s blue eyes blown wide in shock.

“Okay,” muses Lance. Keith grins, sheepish and shy, which is stupid because he’s literally been sleeping with this man for almost a year now and they’ve done much more than kiss. “So, were we both terrified of that conversation for no reason?” he asks. Keith laughs, though it almost sounds like a sob. Wow, why does he feel like crying?

“You okay?” Lance asks, concerned but definitely amused to some degree. Keith nods, rubbing at his eyes to dispel any unnecessary wetness there.

“Yeah, fine,” Keith reassures, albeit with a placating sniffle. He’s definitely not tearing up like an emotionally detached infant.

“Looks like it’s your turn to be emotionally evaluated and cuddled tonight,” Lance voices as he runs a soothing hand through Keith’s hair.

“God, shut up,” Keith retorts, bopping his head against Lance’s shoulder so Lance can neither see his red cheeks nor watering eyes. Lance chuckles softly and kisses the juncture between Keith’s neck and jaw. Other than Shiro, Lance is likely the only other person who has seen him cry. More than once, in fact. He’s also probably the only other person who knows how much of a sensitive crybaby Keith can be, if it’s the right topic. Usually topics relating to family, and love, or his dad.  He’s seen Lance cry too, plenty of times. They’re there for each other, and sometimes that means being a shoulder to cry on. But Keith isn’t sad right now. He’s relieved, happy, and probably a little in love.

“You know I’m sore from sleeping here,” Keith decides is a good way to continue their conversation.

“I figured you’d be. You we’re sleeping sitting up against a titanium wall,” Lance reminds. “But,” he continues, mischievous lilt in his voice. “Come by my room later and I’ll make it up to you,” he promises with a smirk. Keith quirks his brows judgmentally, despite his grin.

“I’m holding you to that,” Keith promises, pulling back to look level with Lance, who shrugs.

“It’s basically _our_ room at this point, anyway” Lance justifies, and Keith thinks Lance is _trying_ to make him smile at this point.

“Cliché sap.” Lance has the nerve to wink.

“You love it,” and Keith does. He really does.

Sometime later, they finally rise from their curled positions on the windowsill to eat whatever lovely concoction is awaiting them in the dining hall. Depending on whether or not Hunk decided to cook determines whether or not that phrase is sarcastic.

Keith immediately winces upon standing, his back aching. Lance makes a joke about how their teammates are going to think they were up to the dirty if Keith keeps walking like an old man, to which Keith politely chucks Lances jacket at the his head.

Just about everyone is present in the dining area when they arrive, walking close to each other. It hasn’t exactly been a secret that they’re together, but not _together_. Or, at least before this morning they weren’t, anyway. They are _together_ -together now, but before it was an unspoken rule not to use romantic terminology when it came to them. Everyone just pretended not to see whenever they did something coupley. Keith thinks they probably didn’t want to push something like a relationship on them, or give them the revelation that a relationship is too tedious with their positions as paladins. So, nobody says anything when the two walk in, standing a little closer than they usually do in public. Keith’s okay with that. If he’s being entirely honest, he’d rather everyone infer they’re official now, than actually have to tell them.

Much to both of their gratitude, Hunk did indeed put something together for breakfast. Keith has no idea what it’s called or what’s in it, but it smells great and they’ve all learned that’s all that matters and they do _not_ want to know what’s in it.

So, they both set to making themselves plates of the concoction Hunk has put together, a soup of some sort in combinations with what looks like sandwiches. Actually, it may just be soup and sandwiches. Keith still isn’t accustomed to actually having Earth food on the ship.

“Nice of you two to finally join us,” comes Shiro’s voice from where he’s sitting down at one of the long tables, drinking what Keith knows is coffee based on the smell. Keith rolls his eyes.

“Well, I for one don’t mind you two waking up later. Mostly because it means if Keith is still sleeping, I don’t have to wake up for drills,” Hunk contributes to the conversation from his seat, multitasking between tinkering with some mechanical contraption and eating, along with Pidge beside him.

“Does this have salami on it? I hate salami,” Lance says mostly to himself, plucking off the thin slices of said meat and placing them on his plate. Keith perks up and reaches over to pluck the slices from Lance’s plate.

“I’ll eat your salami,” he says, and knows immediately that he should have not said that based on the grin twisting its way onto Lance’s lips.

“I bet you will,” he says low and sultry, and all Keith can do is stare straight ahead, expressionless, knowing full well he set himself up for that.  

There’s a bark of laughter coming from both Pidge and Hunk and what might have been a choked back chuckle from Shiro himself. Allura is pressing a hand to her lips to hide her own amused grin. These past few years have given her plenty of time to be tainted by Earth humor. Keith side-eyes Lance, unimpressed. Lance returns the look with pursed lips and raised brows, obviously aware of his mistake.

 _“Sorry,”_ Lance mouths, and Keith wishes he could be genuinely mad right now, but all he can muster is a smile and shake of his head.

“Uh, so yeah. We’re dating now, guys. Like for real,” Lance adds, bashful, turning to lean back against the countertop so he can look at everyone.

“Finally,” Hunk says from where he's seated beside Pidge. Keith quirks a brow, having expected that to come from Pidge. “You two have been dancing around being official for too long. It was starting to make me sad,” he explains. Pidge nods.

“I knew it was going to happen inevitably, but romance isn’t really my thing so I didn’t stress _that_ much. Hunk wouldn’t stop talking about it though,” she reveals with a smirk. Hunk nods affirmatively, not denying this claim at all.  

“Oh, and now that talking about you two in terms of being a couple is safe,  we all have a picture of you two cuddling on the windowsill. It’s adorable,” Hunk also enlightens. Keith’s expression drops.

“What?! Delete it!” he demands, twisting around sharply to scowl at everyone. Not a single one of them looks close to taking the demand seriously, all simply staring at him with unmoved expressions.

“Well, we can but Shiro actually has the main copy,” Allura explains. Keith looks over to Shiro with exasperation, who just shrugs.

“I’m not deleting it,” he states with a firm stare, before taking another sip of his coffee. Keith scowls at him. 

“Well, somebody send _me_  the picture of us cuddling because I’m definitely making it my wallpaper,” Lance demands, ever the traitor he is. Keith shoots him an incredulous look. Lance rolls his eyes.

“Oh , of all things, you should definitely be grateful, Keith. Now you have proof that you cradled me in your arms,” he teases, quirking a plucked brow, an impish grin twisting his lips. “ _We had a bonding moment._ ”

“It’s been _years_ since I said that, Lance. _Years. Jesus,_ We haven’t even officially been together for a day and I’m already considering breaking up with you,” Keith retorts, grabbing his food  to sit down at the table. Lance follows and sits beside Keith.

“You don’t mean that,” Lance claims, sounding just worried enough for Keith to cave.

“No. I don’t. But any chance of me going easy in you when we train later is gone.” Keith claims. He'll decide later if he carries through with that threat though. 

“Fair enough," Lance says with a nod.

From there, Lance continues to demand the photo of them cuddling from Hunk, who very willingly obliges, much to Keith’s dismay.

He eats his food tiredly as Lance talks to the rest of their teammates about something Keith can’t focus on enough to listen to because he’s tired and sore. At some point, he registers Lance calling him and asking a question, to which he only shrugs, shoveling soup into his mouth.

Unbeknownst to him, the room has grown quiet. He doesn’t even realize Lance has gotten up, or that the rest of their teammates have left until there’s a cup suddenly being placed before him—a mug of steaming coffee. Keith looks up, eyes following along the tanned arms placing the cup before him to see Lance reseating himself beside him.

“You look really tired,” Lance says, apologetically. Keith smiles reassuringly, reaching for the cup of coffee to find that it’s packed with creamer. He smiles. Lance knows him well enough to know that he much prefers coffee in his creamer, as opposed to creamer in his coffee. Lance once made a joke about him having to compensate his bitter personality with sweets.  

Sighing blissfully as he takes the first sip, Keith leans against Lance’s shoulder.

“I am tired. But, you’re making it up to me tonight right?” he asks, resting his chin on Lance’s shoulder as he looks up at him. Lance is silent for a moment as he registers the phrase before he’s smiling wide and nodding.

“Yeah, I’m making it up to you tonight,” he agree, this time minus the coitus innuendo and with eyes brimming with endearment. Keith smiles back with tired, eyes that contain not an ounce of regret. 

It’s definitely Keith’s turn to be cradled in someone’s arms tonight. Specifically, that someone being Lance.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write about Lance getting that sweet love and affection. He deserves it.  
> I wouldn't be the angst queen without a lil bit of angst.  
> Also, this takes place assuming they treat the Atlas like they did the castle.  
> Tell me what y'all think in the comments!  
> &&  
> [ hmu on tumblr](https://litaluna.tumblr.com/)  
> &&  
> 


End file.
